


i keep a close watch on this heart of mine

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-10-09 14:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10413774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: Hoth is really kriffingcoldand Jyn is just tired of it.





	1. i keep my eyes wide open all the time

 “I hate Hoth,” says Jyn for what seems like the millionth time, wrapping herself up so much in whatever blankets Cassian has on his bed that she ceases to bear resemblance to a human being and more to a lump with a voice. “I hate snow, I hate wind, I hate ice, I hate tuantuans and just about everything else.”

 “You’ve said that,” Cassian points out, with what he truly feels is saint-like patience. “Today and every single other day we’ve been here.”

 “Three sun cycles,” she growls, “ _three!_ At this point I feel like signalling the Empire where we are just so they can attack and get us _off_ this blasted frozen rock.”

 “You could be put on trial for treason if someone were to hear that,” he reminds her.

She pokes her head out far enough from the nest of blankets to look at him. “Are _you_ going to tell anyone?”

He would let himself be thrown out of an airlock before he did that. He just sighs. “I think a lot of people would probably _help_ you if it meant getting out of here.”

“You see,” she says grumpily and then lets him crawl in besides her, without complaining (too much) of his chilled hands and feet. “Warm me up,” he suggests and the look she gives him is simultaneously unimpressed and amused. 

“You are transparent,” she informs him, but takes his hands between her own and breathes on them, a small pocket of warmth bringing life to his fingertips. 

She’s survived on cold places before, if not quite the same extreme as Hoth, but sharing body heat (with someone she actually _likes_ ) is a new and novel experience. One that might almost make up for everything else. 

Neither Cassian or Jyn could be considered taller than average, but even they basically have to sleep on top of each other in order to get something resembling a decent night’s sleep. It’s too cold for any actual creative fooling around (not that they haven’t given it their best effort), but today felt like a millennia and they’re both too tired to try anything. Jyn allows herself one small indulgence; tugging the collar of Cassian’s undershirt down low enough to place a quick kiss on his collarbone, then snuggling her nose into the hollow of his throat. 

“Your face is like ice woman,” he mutters, but manages to scoot further down the bunk so he can wind their legs together (any further and his feet will be hanging off the edge of the bed and he’ll probably lose some toes to frostbite).

“Don’t whinge,” she says into his skin, already fighting back a yawn. “It doesn’t suit you.”

He scoffs, letting his hands slide up the back of her shirt, resting high on her spine. “ _Whinge?”_

“Go to sleep,” she mumbles, kissing the soft place of his throat, a vulnerable place, one she feels she has special claim to. 

He snorts again, but places his back to the wall, so he can look over her shoulder as they sleep, keeping an eye on whatever might come through the door. 

She sleeps better here than she does anywhere else, knowing full well any kind of safety or security she feels might be an illusion–but she’ll take it anyways, because he makes it real enough.


	2. i look at you and it is like my throat being cut

“There is a fifty-six percent chance Jyn Erso will kill you,” says K2 the first time Cassian sees her face in an intelligence report. 

Cassian looks at the droid. “Only fifty-six?” 

K2′s optic sensors flicker, an approximation of a blink. “One outcome is more likely than the other.” He does not say which one.

* * *

“I saw her fight,” says K2, after Jedha, after Eadu. “The odds have not improved.”

Cassian remembers a slight, slender form whirling in and out and around ‘troopers, batons an extension of herself, fierce and ruthless and  _unleashed,_ like lightning rolling over the prairies of his youth.  

She could kill him. She could do it easily, even now. If she really wanted to. 

He would see her coming, but he isn’t so sure he would be able to stop her. 

* * *

“Would you like to know the odds again?” K2 asks, as they approach Scarif. “For her killing you?”

Cassian looks down at Scarif, at blue water and clouds swirling peacefully over the surface of the world.  Of what awaits them down below. “I know the odds,” he says. “I’ll risk it.”

K2 makes an aggravated grinding sound, his equivalent of a huff of annoyance. “Well, don’t come crying to _me_ if you get killed.” 

Despite himself, Cassian smiles. “I won’t, K, I promise.” 

* * *

“Does K still think I’ll kill you?” Jyn asks softly, late at night at Echo Base, in his bed, wrapped in blankets to protect against creeping and bitter cold. 

Cassian runs his nose along the fine lines of her throat and tendons of her neck, savoring the warmth and softness there, something he can’t quite believe he has any kind of claim to. “He thinks everything will eventually kill me.”

“That isn’t an answer,” she scolds gently and he sighs, raises his head to look at her, glowing dimly in the scant light. 

“I’d die a happy man,” he says simply, because that’s the truth, the one that matters. 

She snorts softly in the darkness, nuzzling his cheek, a rare gesture of affectionate amusement. “I’d rather you live.”

“Alright,” he murmurs, drifting into sleep, “I’ll try.” 


	3. baby, it's cold outside

“You know, in  _some_ places, watching the snow fall is considered romantic,” Jyn says, peering out onto the frozen landscape of Hoth. 

Cassian peers over her shoulder, out into the blizzard. “ _Is_  it?”

“Well, at least in all the holodramas I’ve ever seen,” Jyn concedes, because romantic notions are a bit thin on the ground among partisans or the lower kind of dregs in the galaxy. 

“And how many holodramas is that?” Cassian inquires  _very_  politely. 

“All the ones Skywalker watches with Bodhi,” Jyn admits, “so all the romantic ones.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, but lets his chin rest on Jyn’s shoulder. “You don’t even  _like_ the romantic Core world stories.”

“Better than Imp propaganda,” Jyn grumbles. “Or all those weird Imperial dramas where everyone’s backstabbing each other and clawing for power and they were all schoolmates in the Academy. If I want to see that, I’ll go on a mission with you.”

Cassian hums an agreement as the snow continues to fall. “Still think this is romantic?”

Jyn actually laughs. “What, the base with hardly any heating, the Princess and Solo screaming at each other, the tuantauns and K2 complaining of his joints freezing up?” 

“Well when you put it like that,” Cassian says with a sigh and tugs her back to him, letting the shutter in his room fall shut. They tumble into the tiny bunk, rearranging themselves so they’re more or less comfortable. 

Outside, the wind howls and the snow piles higher. Somewhere, Solo and Leia are complaining about each other to a completely unfooled audience, the tauntauns are restless in their pens and K2 is no doubt grousing about the cold and his joints locking up. Here, though, in Cassian’s bed, Jyn can let herself pretend for a few hours that this means nothing, that it cannot touch her, that the world has shrunk down to a pair of warm arms and breath in her ear. No other story she hears or reads is close to the reality of that.


End file.
